A New Life
by shmabs
Summary: Bella can't touch people freely because of a rare condition. So what will happen when she moves to Forks and meets the mysterious, cold skinned Edward and his family? Will she be able to embrace her new life, or will she push it away? M for a reason ;
1. Prologue

**OK, so I was watching an episode of Extreme Home Makeover and saw this poor little girl with this disease. And as soon as I heard the symptoms, I went all crazy fangirl and thought, 'what if Bella had this disease?' And so, this story started forming in my head. I don't have a real plot at the moment, but I'm working on it, so please stay with me. **

**This is going to be my first relatively serious story, so if you guys have any suggestions or anything that you think might help me, please feel free to PM me or leave a review. Anyway, here's the prologue. :D**

I hate being a freak.

I hate not being able to spend time outside with my friends, the few that I have. I hate how I'm treated like glass; as if one touch or one word would make me crack and shatter into a million pieces. I hate people that say I look fine when in actuality, there's nothing _right_ about me. I hate that everyone looks at me with pity rooted deep in their eyes. I hate that I haven't had human contact that lasted for more than a few brief seconds in thirteen years. I hate that the best friends I have reside in books. I hate all the hospital visits, all the tubes tangled around me, all the doctors and nurses whispering about me and my 'special condition.' I hate that the only normal life I know is from TV shows.

I guess you could say that I have a lot of problems.

Well, before I unburden myself anymore, I suppose I should let you know about me.

My name is Isabella Marie Swan, but everyone calls me Bella. I have pale ivory skin, dark brown hair, and brown eyes. To look at me, I seem like a normal seventeen-year old girl. But on a biological level, I'm as different from most people as air is from water.

You see, I was diagnosed with Hereditary Sensory Autonomic Neuropathy (HSAN) when I was four years old. You've probably never heard of it. In fact, only 25 people in the world currently have it.

It's a disease that deadens your nerves so you basically don't feel any pain. It also makes your temperature fluctuate much easier than most peoples. In other words, I can't be in a room above 62 degrees or my body would get overheated and my internal organs wouldn't know what to do, so they'd seize up and I could potentially die.

Just think of all the things that you do outside in the sun: tanning, going to the beach, riding your bike, playing sports, riding on a boat, walking outside to get the mail, sleeping next to someone with their warm arms wrapped around you, riding in a car without a bucket of ready to use icepacks. I've never done any of these things, and I never will.

Please don't misunderstand my intentions. I don't want your pity. Believe me; I have enough of that already. And I love my family more than anything. They've supported me and helped me through everything and I couldn't ask for a better one. But, they don't understand how much I keep bottled up inside me.

I know that all my hate is unnecessary. There isn't anything I can do about my predicament, but I can't help it. Sometimes, on particularly long days at the hospital, or when no ones in the house and I allow my loneliness to overwhelm me, I feel like screaming for something, anything, to help me.

But I've long given up on God. If He was even there, then wouldn't answer me? Couldn't he, at the very least, give me a sign that he was there, watching over me? All those times that I accidentally sliced my arm or leg and didn't notice it until hours later when I was weak from the blood-loss, where was he? Well, I had made up my mind a long time ago that he wasn't there at all, because you can't be there if you don't exist.

Fortunately though, a big change is about to occur in my life. For all of my life, I've lived in Florida with Renee and Charlie, my parents. Finally though, after thirteen years of saving money, and careful planning we're moving to Washington, one of the dreariest, wettest and, most importantly, coldest places in the US.

To say I'm excited is an understatement. After spending years of my life inside my house, being homeschooled by Renee, I'll finally be able to do some things on my own. I'll be able to walk outside without an icepack-jacket strapped to me. I'll be able to drive on my own, without worrying about carrying ice with me.

I'll be able to have a whole new life.

_**"Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent"  
— **__**Victor Hugo**_

**Soooooo, there's the prologue. I really, really, really hope that you guys like it. Although I usually enjoy writing funnier stuff, I think that this might challenge me and push my writing to new limits, so please tell me what you think about it. **

**Oh, and that's one of my favorite quotes. It doesn't exactly relate to the story, but I just felt like putting it up there :)**

**Again, read and review! :D**

**P.S. I don't really like the title, so if anyone has any suggestions, please tell me. Thanks! :D**


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own Bella….or Edward…unfortunately :[**

**Hiya! First off, I just want to say that I realllllllly appreciate everyone that reviewed or favorited or added my story to story alert. Really, you have no idea how much it means to me. **

**Secondly, I neither have, nor know anyone with HSAN, so I'm kind of pulling stuff out of my ass. I hope it sounds right :)**

"_I long, as does every other human being, to be at home wherever I find myself."_

—_Maya Angelou_

After years of waiting and wishing and hoping, we were finally, finally, _finally _leaving the warm confines of my prison.

We drove to the airport and double checked everything and I saw that we had enough ice to last if the plane got stranded in the middle of a deserted island for a couple months. I looked around one more time, silently bidding a farewell to my childhood home, even though I was in an airport and not my house. I quickly snagged a window seat and relaxed against the headrest. I had been on enough planes to visit different specialists to be completely comfortable with flying.

I dozed in and out of consciousness, thinking about what my new life would be like. Of course, it would never be completely different because this condition would stay with me for all of my life. But I couldn't help but believe that everything would change. I would be able to, at least for a short time, seem normal to my fellow classmates.

And classmates! I've never really had classmates. I've been to school once in my life, and to say that it was a disaster would be like saying the Pacific Ocean is a puddle.

When I was twelve years old and still didn't fully understand what was happening to me and why I couldn't go to school like the people living next to us did, I had thrown such a fit about not going to school like normal kids that Renee had decided to send me to school for one day, just to see if I could handle it.

I didn't even make it halfway through the day.

Since neither Renee, nor Charlie was there, I forgot to change my icepacks, lost in the wonder of so many children all together. And none of them looked at me like I was a freak! I was just some new girl to them, not a person that could feel no pain, or couldn't get hot, and I reveled in it. I didn't even have to talk to them, having them there was enough. It was all going fine until lunch, when the warmth of so many bodies pressing against each other and the blast of heat every time one of the many ovens in the kitchen open started making me feel woozy.

Suddenly, I couldn't think straight, and my vision was blurry. I couldn't hear anything clearly; it was all fuzzy and loud, like static. My mouth tried to open and tell someone to call the doctor, but I was too tired, and I slipped off of my chair and onto the floor, but I felt no pain: just the tell-tale slap of skin on linoleum.

I knew that spasms were racking through my body as a seizure overtook me, but only because my eyes were settling on different things: an empty lunch tray, the big fake plant in the corner, one of my teacher's stunned gaze, a red apple rolling towards me along the floor.

My fuzzy ears couldn't make out any individual sounds, only detect that the noise level had risen uproariously. I remember again trying to open my mouth and convince everyone I was fine, which, looking back on it, might not have been the smartest idea because I bit through my tongue. I didn't even feel it.

After a moment or two more, I couldn't remember anything else. People said that I hit my head, hard, on one of the lunch tables, but had continued thrashing around like a fish on land.

Needless to say, I never went back to school after that.

But now, now I didn't have to worry about the horrible, humid heat that enveloped Florida most of the year. Now, I was officially allowed to go to school on my own, mostly because I was seventeen years old and responsible enough that I wouldn't put myself in any unnecessary danger. Charlie still wanted me to carry around some icepacks, just in case something happened and I was somewhere with no air conditioning, but I managed to reassure him by telling him that 'even if they _don't_ have any air conditioning, I can just walk outside, which is practically an ice box.' He didn't look totally convinced, but he had nodded his head and grunted in affirmation.

That's one of the things I love about Charlie. He could be as stubborn as a mule at times, but he always looked at my side of things and took me into consideration. He knew for a fact that I hated having to carry a cooler around with me wherever I went, so he was being lenient and letting me have some freedom.

For some reason, as I was thinking about all this on the plane, I laughed to myself a little. Really though, when you think about it, it's kind of funny. Most girls my age think of freedom as being able to stay out until twelve, or letting their boyfriend spend time in the house. But I thought of freedom as not having to carry around a cooler full of ice packs.

Sad isn't it?

It just goes to show you how little time I've spent being _normal._

You know, I've always hated that word. _Normal. _Who decides what normal means anyway? Is it someone with a middle-class family who gets a B+ in school and has a few friends? Is it someone that lives like all those reality shows, partying every day, having sex all the time, and basically getting into all sorts of shit? Or is it just a setting on the washing machine?

Well, whichever one it is, it certainly doesn't describe me.

I sighed and looked out the window of the plane, marveling at the misty clouds floating above us. Just then, a ray of sunshine shone on that particular patch of clouds, making them shine a beautiful golden color, tinted with hints of peach. I stared at it longingly, wanting to be able to feel the heat on my skin without worrying, until, even by craning my head, I could no longer see it, steeling myself for a painfully long flight.

~X~X~X~X~X~Hollywood—Undead—Rocks!~X~X~X~X~X~

"Bella? Bella, baby, wake up. We're here."

I shook my head and grumbled, not wanting to be roused from my surprisingly relaxing sleep. I shifted, trying to get a little more comfortable, when something Renee had said slowly filtered through my sleep hazed brain, making me shoot straight up out of my seat with an impossibly large grin on my face.

We're here.

After years of waiting, and planning, and saving, we were finally at the location that would allow me to really _live_ for the first time in my life.

I looked around blearily, still not completely awake, and saw my mom smiling at me with tears of relief and happiness shining in her eyes. My throat closed up briefly. My mom had given up everything so she could stay home and home-school me and generally take care of me. She had put on hold her own career as an interior designer and turned into a stay-at-home mom.

But now that I would be able to have some independence, she could start doing what she loved again and stop worrying about me all the time.

"Come on Bella, up and at 'em."

"All right all right," I grumbled, just now noticing how unbearably stiff I was from sleeping in a chair.

Renee let out a carefree laugh that I hadn't heard in years and helped me out of my seat, touching my arm briefly before letting go and getting out more icepacks and a thermometer. I couldn't help but roll my eyes at her over-protectiveness.

"Ren—" I stopped when I saw her look at me threateningly. She and Charlie don't like it when I call them by their first names. I sighed loudly and started over again. "Mom, I'm fine. I don't feel warm and the icepacks are still cold."

She looked at me disapprovingly, not stopping what she was doing one bit.

"We've been over this a million times Bella. You can't really tell how cold the icepacks are, and you most _certainly_ don't know how hot you are."

I couldn't help but snicker at that. It took her a moment, but then she caught on to what I was laughing at and joined me, the little 'fight' we just had already forgotten.

Charlie appeared behind her, carrying my carry-on bag for me. I love my dad and all, but sometimes it gets on my nerves that he doesn't think I can carry my own stuff. But hey, I don't really blame him. Along with my condition, I'm also the clumsiest person known to man. Which isn't a good combination. Trust me.

Of course, as I was thinking this, I turned around and promptly ran into what felt like an extremely hard rock. The force of the impact made me stumble, which in turn, made me fall down the stairs leading out of the small plane. Thankfully though, someone caught me before I could fall down all the steps like I had so many times at home.

Home. I need to stop thinking about it like that. The house that I lived in for so long is no longer my home. It's just the place that I slept in and ate in and spent most of my long seventeen years hiding away from the sun and warmth in.

"Lady? Hey, LADY! I'm talking to you!"

I shook my head roughly so I wouldn't start crying in front of a complete stranger, especially since it was a _rude_ complete stranger.

"Oh, um, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you," I stuttered nervously, fully aware that the man hadn't let go of my arms yet. Carefully, I extricated myself from his grasp and turned around, intending to thank him for catching me, but not expecting to practically be undressed by his eyes.

"Weeeeell now," he said in a low voice while looking at me in an extremely uncomfortable, lecherous way. "What have we here?" He smiled at me, but it wasn't kind or welcoming or comforting in any way what-so-ever. It was cocky and disgusting and chock-full of innuendo. I just nodded my head, sneakily giving him a once-over.

He looked like he could be anywhere in the ages ranging from late twenties to early forties. His long, dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into a greasy ponytail, with a beard and slight mustache the same color. His eyes were too close together and a weird washed out blue color, like when you washed a pair of jeans too many times. He must have been around '5'11 because he was a couple inches taller than me, at '5'4. I guess most people would consider him a pretty good looking guy, but I just couldn't get past the lewd way he was looking at my body; like he was assessing how good I would look naked.

Thankfully though, my parents had reached us, Renee running over and spinning me around, checking me for broken bones or any copiously bleeding wounds, then giving me a quick, hard hug before letting go and turning to thank the man that caught me. Charlie, a little ways behind Renee, did the same thing; scanning me for any cuts or bruises, then quickly pulling me into a tight hug.

As Charlie let me go, I could hear Renee thanking my 'savior' and asking him what his name was, where he worked, whether he knew about the town we were moving to, thanking him _again_ for catching me, asking him what size show he wore, and whether he wore boxers or briefs. Ok, so not the last two, but she might as well have been interrogating him, she was asking so many random questions.

He answered them all, looking over her shoulder and staring directly at _me. _Or, to be more specific, my chest. Perv.

His name was James, he worked as a Private Eye, tracking down things people had lost, he did know where Forks was and would be simply _delighted_ to show us around town, (again, he was staring at my chest as he said it) oh it was no problem at all, size fourteen, and he preferred to go commando. Again, just kidding about the last two, but I'm pretty sure that was what he would have said. Bleh.

"Bella! Come thank James. God only knows what could have happened if he hadn't caught you!"

Hesitantly, I made my way over to my mother and James, who had a smirk on his face that for some reason, although I've never been a violent person, made me want to slap him.

"Thank you for catching me," I mumbled as I looked down at my feet, not wanting to see, but feeling all the same, his searching, violating eyes roaming over my body.

"Oh, no, the _pleasure_ was all mine."

I shuddered slightly at the inflection in his voice, still staring intently at my scuffed up Chucks that I almost never wear outside. After a moment of tremendously awkward silence, Renee cleared her throat and asked James for his phone number so that she could call him when we had some free time so he could take us on a tour of Forks.

Subtly, I nudged Charlie, and motioned for him to let me help carry some of the bags he was holding. He looked at me for a second, and then slowly nodded his head, allowing me to take the smallest and lightest of the five or so bags he was carrying. Charlie started walking towards the small baggage claim where we would pick up the rest of our bags and I followed him, relieved that I was _finally_ able to do something, not to mention get far away from James.

After Charlie and I had gotten a sufficient distance away from James, he stopped and lightly touched my shoulder, making me stop and look back at him. He had a troubled expression on his face, like he wanted to ask me something but wasn't quite sure how to word it.

"Bells…" he said hesitantly, before taking a breath and continuing, "are you Ok? Because you normally don't act like that when you meet someone."

He was right, of course. Since I usually didn't have the opportunity to meet anyone new, every time I _did _meet someone, I was always excited and smiling and practically bouncing up and down. This time however, I was subdued, and more than a little grossed out from all the innuendoes.

But I forced a smile on my face all the same; Charlie didn't need to be concerned about this overly sexual man. He had enough to worry about as is.

"I'm fine Ch—dad. Just a little anxious now that we're finally here." I smiled at him again, a real smile this time, happy to be in the place that I'd always dreamed about.

Charlie returned my smile with a small one of his before continuing to walk towards the baggage claim.

~X~X~X~X~X~I—Love—Steve—Millers—Band~X~X~X~X~X

"Well, this it Bella. Home sweet home."

I pressed my face to the glass of our rental car, looking up in wonder at the place where I would now be living.

It was a lovely little place indeed, isolated slightly by a small patch of woods on the right side, and a large ditch on the left. It was made of brick two stories high with a wrap-around front porch that went almost entirely around the whole house. Out in front were some mangy bushes and a wide variety of different wildflowers sprouting out of the ground in every available inch of grass. The hedges were unkempt and filled with vines, but I'm sure that once Renee decides to fix the garden, she shouldn't have too much trouble. The front yard was quite tiny, housing only the small driveway and garage. However, I could see from my seat in the car that the backyard was a whole different story. As far as I could tell, it extended all the way back into the tree line, which was about fifty yards from the garage we were parking in.

As soon as the car had come to a complete stop, I was out of my seat and running all around the house like a five year old, whooping and hollering and doing ungraceful pirouettes until my feet were tired and my throat was sore. Charlie and Renee had watched the whole thing, leaning against the car with their arms around each other, tears spilling down their cheeks from laughing so hard at my antics.

Once I was done with my impersonation of a five year old on crack, I raced back to the car and threw my arms around both Charlie and Renee, crushing them to me in a fierce hug. Charlie awkwardly squeezed my arm (Renee and I were kind of making him into a Charlie sandwich, so my arm was pretty much all he could reach) while Renee clutched my whole body (and Charlie's neck) to her chest. We stayed like that for a while, all of us together and happy and carefree. It was the longest I had ever been hugged in my life, and it didn't feel too hot or uncomfortable at all; the chilly Washington air was blowing on my face, cooling my skin before it was able to get hot.

Finally, we all pulled away; Charlie and I both looking awkwardly down at our feet while Renee just wiped her eyes on her sleeve and sniffled a little.

"Heh…well, we should really get unpacked. It looks like it's planning to rain on us."

Renee rubbed both eyes vigorously and gave one big long snort before looking up at the darkening sky.

"All right, but we'd better hurry. I don't want any of our clothes to get wet; I'm not sure if the dryer actually works.

Quickly, before they could protest, I popped the trunk to the car and got out the heaviest bag I could find, before making my way inside, carefully stepping up the six steps to the front door. I had to put the box down for a moment before I could actually get the door open, but when I did, I was greeted with the most welcoming sight I'd seen all day.

The front door opened up to a short hallway, and, directly down the short hallway, was the most massive kitchen I had ever seen in my entire life. It had shining granite countertops, gorgeous wooden cabinets, an island in the middle with bar stools and a miniature ice-machine, a giganormous refrigerator, a state-of-the-art oven and microwave, and an O-ster **(A/N can anyone tell me where I got thE O-ster from???)**

I felt like I had been struck dumb. This was the kitchen of my _dreams!_

In case you haven't figured it out yet, I love cooking. Omelets, French toast, bacon, PB&J's, fried bologna sandwiches, chicken nuggets, macaroni-and-cheese, steak, roast beef, pork chops, spaghetti, ravioli, salad, baked potatoes, ham, cakes, pies, brownies, cookies, you name it, I love to cook it. And this kitchen was the perfect place to do it in! It even has a little thing above the island where you can hand pots and pans instead of misplacing them in cabinets every time you turn around.

I walked around the whole kitchen slowly, taking in every little detail that I possibly could; the granite was a lovely shake of rose, kind of pink, but still with a hint of masculinity, instead of tiled floors, we had darkly stained hardwood, the backsplash behind the oven was a beautiful teal color that reminded me of the sea in Florida, the one time I'd been able to see it.

I had been so wrapped up in my thoughts that I hadn't even realized that Charlie and Renee were standing right next to me.

"The kitchen is the main reason we bought this house, Bella. We knew you would fall in love with it instantly."

I looked over at my mom, overcome with emotion yet again. Man, I was becoming such a sap lately.

"Thanks mom, dad. I can't believe you guys did all this for me."

"Of course we did baby! You're our only daughter; you're _supposed_ to be spoiled rotten.

I had to laugh at that, because if there was ever one thing that I wasn't, it was spoiled rotten. I mean, they didn't exactly give me presents everyday or anything, just every once in a while, when there was a special occasion or a holiday, they would get me a present. I always insisted that they stop, but they never did listen to me.

I looked around once again at my dream kitchen, then yawned hugely, cracking my jaw painfully.

"Well, I think I'm off to bed. Do you need anymore help unpacking our clothes?"

They just looked at each other and laughed. I raised an incredulous eyebrow, asking what the _heck_ was going on.

"Bella, we've been done for half and hour. You were standing in here, staring at your new kitchen for almost forty five minutes."

Oops. I blushed, embarrassed that I hadn't been able to help at all.

Charlie, sensing that I was about to apologize, motioned with his hands to the stairs, as if telling me to scurry along. I sighed, and opened my mouth to say sorry anyway, but Renee interrupted me this time.

"Your room is the second on the right! Bathroom is first on the right. Goodnight sweetheart. We love you!"

I nodded and slowly made my way up the stairs, feeling my feet drag with each step. As soon as I reached the top of the stairs, I turned on the first right so I could, ah…use the facilities. After walking out of the bathroom with a much emptier bladder, I was ready to fall asleep standing, so I walked to my new room as quickly as possible, turned off the light, threw back the covers, jumped in between the sheets and was out like a light before I was even able to process what the room looked like.

**Sooooo, what did you guys think? Was it as good as the prologue? Better? Worse? Review and let me know! **

**Just remember, reviews=happy me…happy me=happy writing…happy writing=EDWARD. So pleeeeeease read and review so I can get to Edward soon!**

**By the way, this is not going to be exactly like Twilight with the whole plot and everything. Yes, the Cullen's are all vampires, but James is not. At least, he's not for right now. That might be liable to change later on, but I don't really have a concrete plot at this point, so anything can happen :D**

**P.S. I just realized that how Bella feels in the beginning of 'A New Life' is almost the exact opposite to what Bella feels in 'Twilight.' In 'Twilight', she doesn't want to go to Forks and hates the cloudy rainyness of it. But in 'A New Life', Bella can't wait to get there. Sorry, just something I sort of noticed while checking it for errors. Maybe I'll try and do the whole story like that. Eh, who knows?**


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